


Nothing's Gonna Hurt You

by orphan_account



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8209139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After the near-death events on Pandora, Rhys still deals with the mental aftermath of such traumatic times.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda old and I found it on my phone after going through my writing app, clearing out other stuff. I believe I wrote this while I was having a pretty bad panic attack myself and just channeled all that into Rhys, trying to deal with it in a way I’ve never tried before. And it... Oddly worked. So this is more of vent writing than anything else. That I completely forgot about until now lol.
> 
> I deal with a lot of really bad anxiety and to put those feelings into words and to have them felt by a character I hold very dearly and can relate to in some ways is a pretty great coping method that I might find myself using more in the future,

It was always in the middle of the night. Always and every time without fail, when Rhys hadn’t slept enough, the quiet thoughts would start coming. They were slow at first, what if’s and how’s and why’s. None of them were voluntary questions, nor did they ever have any solid answers. Instead, they shook like a nest of angrily disturbed bees until there was no longer anything Rhys could mentally grasp onto but blanks and involuntary thoughts.

The panic attacks were a well known thing to the cybernetic man at this point, but that somehow didn’t stop them from happening or from being terrifying. In fact, maybe knowing them in and out is what made them all the _worse_. Because he was just _waiting_ for one to come around once he and Jack were settled into bed.

For Jack, it had become almost routine, damn near second nature for him to pull Rhys close when he would hear the younger man beginning to stir restlessly between the sheets. He’d wrap his strong arms around him, hush him, and just hold him there until the panic had settled and passed, which very often left Rhys feeling more exhausted than he ever had before.

Tonight was no different. All the events on Pandora had decided to revisit him yet again, unwelcome and reminding him of the very real situations he’d gotten into down there. How close he came to losing his life. How close he came to losing his best friend, _Vaughn_ , even. And how it still felt like a very real threat to him despite being far out of reach from the bandits down below on that miserable planet.

Rhys could feel Jack taking the cue as he began to breathe quicker and deeper, his fingers clutching at the bed sheets in frantic and unsure waves. He could soon feel Jack’s arms surrounding him, but it didn’t stop what was coming.

“Shit, _shit_ , _**oh God**_ ,” Rhys muttered to himself in quick wisps of breaths, not at all remembering how he was supposed to breathe through his nose and not his gaping mouth. “ _Jack_ –”

“I’m here, kiddo,” Jack muttered, his voice riddled with the groggy sheet of sleep but held a comforting alertness to the words as well. “Don’t worry, I got ya.”

Rhys swallowed roughly, his throat feeling as though it was closing up on him. Could that happen? Could his throat close up completely and he’d just suffocate and die right here? Perhaps it should happen like that. Because he should’ve died back on Pandora. He shouldn’t be here right now. He was living on borrowed time.

Rhys was distantly aware of Jack’s fingers carding through his mussed hair as the panic began to surmount into something worse than what it was before. The gesture, although not directly noted, seemed to be pushing down the panic from rising to a manic high.

But it wasn’t good right now. And Rhys was _**terrified**_.

“Fuck. Jack, _I’m–_ I _**just**_ – _I-I–!!_ ” Rhys was stuttering between gasps of air, unsure of anything but the fear in his mind. Of what? He didn’t know. And that made it all the worse. He could feel his throat growing dry and tears brimming at his eyes as his lungs only grasped at small tufts of oxygen.

“Hey, _hey_ , _**Rhys**_ , listen to me,” the CEO began suddenly and sternly, making his voice known above Rhys’ own panic and fear. “You’re alright, I gotcha. Nothing’s gonna happen to ya, I swear it. Not a _damn_ thing is gonna hurt you.”

The words were welcome ones, Jack’s tone as firm as it was reassuring. It wasn’t enough to put Rhys completely at ease; he could feel his heart pounding in his ears and his chest hurt and his muscles ached and _nothing_ was fine. But there was something about the way Jack said it, that it made Rhys accept it even just a little bit. And that was, possibly, what made him begin to try breathing slower.

It was a miracle that Rhys hadn’t passed out. He damn near felt like he was going to, it felt so incredibly possible to him, his head swimming in airy waves. Or maybe it was just the fact that he _wanted_ it to happen. He **wanted** to lose sight of the waking world so he wouldn’t have to suffer through this anymore, so he could embrace the inviting unconsciousness with ease.

It would be _so much easier_ if he didn’t have to stay awake. But here he was, in the middle of the night in a pitch black room having one of the worst panic attacks he’s had in months or possibly _years_. It wasn’t hard to justify that he just wanted to relinquish his consciousness as you would a parasitic pest.

“I'm…” Rhys finally began after what felt like an hour long silence. “I’m _sorry_ , Jack…”

That got a huff of a chuckle out of the older man, his chest vibrating against Rhys as he did so, “For _what?_ Like you’re doing this **on purpose?** C'mon. I’m not dumb. Do you think _anyone_ would wanna be like this one purpose?”

Rhys had to give Jack that much, who _would_ want to be like this on purpose? Least of all, Rhys? No. Of course none of this was his fault, he had nothing to apologize for, no transgressions to amend. But as his breaths began to even out and as he could feel his tense muscles begin to finally relax, he couldn’t help but feel like it was so-- _just so stupid._

He felt incredibly safe where he was right now. Safe and protected within Jack’s warm and all-encompassing arms. And that just compounded how dumb he felt for freaking out to begin with.

Slowly, Rhys began to shake his head, exhaling an unsteady breath, “I don’t know, I...”

Rhys realized then that he was incredibly tired. The panic attack left as quickly as it came on, lasting not even a full two minutes, and made Rhys want to fall asleep for at least a solid day or two. He just allowed himself to curl up further into Jack as the older man continued to attempt comforting him.

“Just go to sleep, alright?” Jack sighed, keeping Rhys held close. “I’ll _kill_ anything that tries to even come near you. No questions asked. You’re safe with me, cupcake.”

The wisp of a smile attempted to fight through the encroaching exhaustion blanketed on Rhys’ mind, but it was too much. There was nothing he could do to stop his heavy eyelids from bringing darkness to his vision and soon, darkness to his entire consciousness.


End file.
